The One Who Sees Gotham
by Almadynis Rayne
Summary: rewrite of Xander Goes to Gotham Xander gets kicked out of the Scoobies and Jessica asks a friend for a favor. Xander lives up to his title of One Who Sees and begins to realize the consequences and as Bruce Wayne's ward is targeted by the unsavory. *UP FOR ADOPTION*
1. Not Again

**The One Who Sees Gotham**

Chapter 1: Not Again…

Almadynis

**AN: **After much deliberation, I have decided to rewrite "Xander Goes to Gotham". And here it is! What follows is related to XGtG as a first cousin. Same ancestors that lead to a different outcome. It will be very close, if not identical, in certain places and chapters. However a major difference will be that Angel and Giles will not be introduced until much later, though they will appear. I will be fleshing out the relationship between Xander, Alfred, and Bruce much more in this story. I hope you like!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Batman the Dark Knight. All characters that you recognize aren't mine. I am not making money off of this; I am a dirt poor college student.

* * *

Xander stared at his supposed friends in shock from his position on the floor. Buffy had apparently found out about his lie a few months ago to her so that she could fight her hardest and save the world. He had known that she would be mad, but this intense anger had never occurred to him.

"What did I say? LEAVE!" Buffy screamed, towering over him. "Don't come back!"

Xander looked at Willow, but she just shook her head, her face full of disappointment. Xander felt his heart crush as he slowly climbed to his feet. He was only grateful that the man he considered a father wasn't there to agree with Buffy too. "Okay, Buffy. I'm gone."

* * *

"Xander?" Jennifer Harris looked up from her position on the couch when the door opened and she immediately got up when she saw his torn clothing and the dust from falling books. "What happened?"

Her son looked up at her with such a defeated expression that she gave him a hug on impulse. "Mom…Buffy found out I lied to her…she pushed me into a bookshelf in the library. She doesn't want to see me again. Willow agreed with her." His voice was soft, barely audible.

Jennifer had the sudden urge to choke the blond and redhead. Especially the redhead. She had been friends with her son since kindergarten! "What can I do to help?"

Xander looked at her, eyes sad, "Do you know of someplace I can go that isn't here?"

Jennifer looked at her son, and then both of them froze when a creak from upstairs suggested that 'the king of the castle' might be rising. But no other sounds came, so they both relaxed. It had occurred to her several times to send her son away from the terror that seemed to always grip the two of them, but her own selfish desire to keep her child close by her side stayed her hand. "I met a man about eleven years ago. You were almost four at the time. We had a party that year. Do you remember the man who stood by the presents?" She waited for his answer, sighing in disappointment at the shaking head. "He was in a dark place. Tony was working construction with your Uncle Rory in L. A. and weren't around. I took him in while he got his mind together about who he was and what he wanted to do. He lived with us about three months before he left to go abroad. I lost track of him for a long time, but he showed up in the news a few years ago. He would probably be willing to take you in, at least until you graduate. He does live in Gotham though."

"Mom, you know what comes out at night here. How can Gotham be any worse?" Xander gave Jessica Harris a sardonic half-grin that was returned reluctantly.

"If I call him, you have to promise me that you will stop the heroics Xander." Seeing him prepare to protest she held up a hand, "You will take self-defense classes and martial arts lessons for a year before any heroics. That's as far as I will go. Understand me?" Her tone was hard enough that her son knew she meant it, and what the consequences would be if he disobeyed.

"Yes ma'am. Ummm…Mom? Who is this guy?"

She gave a small genuine smile. "Bruce Wayne." A laugh escaped at his jaw drop.

* * *

"Wayne residence."

*Hello. I am calling for Bruce Wayne.*

"Yes miss. May I inquire as to whom is calling?"

*Jessica Harris.*

A pause, then a click as the line transferred. "Jess? Are you alright?"

The small laugh he remembered so clearly came over the phone, *As I can be Bruce. However, my son isn't. I was hoping you would be willing to take care of him until he finishes school.*

Bruce Wayne's eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his chair at his desk. "How much trouble is he in?" He well remembered the stories she told of her husband.

*It's nothing like that. His 'friends' have decided he isn't worthy. They can make his life very…difficult if they want to. Xander doesn't want to live here anymore, he's afraid to even go to school. Tony won't move. You are the only friend I have who doesn't live in this town. He is a sweet boy, Bruce. He's nothing like his father. Can you help?"

He listened to her speech, raising eyebrows at the savage way she said 'friends' in reference to Alexander's associates. Hearing her speak so much, with so much passion and love evident brought back old memories of a small town with a small boy and his beautiful mother. The woman on the phone helped him so much he would do almost anything for her. What she was asking was a drop compared to what he would be willing to give. "I would be happy to, Jess. Do you need money? For anything?"

Her laugh came again over the line, but this time it was sad and tired. *Just enough for a plane ticket up there. If you sent anymore it wouldn't last a month, no matter the amount.*

"Alright. I'll have Alfred wire you the amount into a private account for the boy." Bruce paused, not quite sure what to say. Jessica Harris was one of the very few people who knew who he really was, and didn't care. "You know…"

She interrupted him, *I know, Bruce. Thank you. Please be careful.*

With a quiet click, the woman who saved his life hung up.

* * *

That had been two weeks ago.

Since then, Xander had packed, withdrawn from school, and used the money in an account he was pretty sure he didn't have before to board a plane to Gotham. From the airport, he had been kidnapped almost immediately. Typical Xander luck. It didn't even need to be Tuesday.

Now he was being used as bait. Again.

He saw a man in a black leather suit try to sneak by in the shadows from his vantage point of tied hands over his head flush against the far wall. He whispered as softly as he could, "It's a trap. Five guys with automatic weapons are around the corner with the head honcho. They kept talking about some kind of special gun that would disperse a laughing gas." Xander had no idea why nitrous oxide would be threatening. Getting it to a deadly mixture would take a sealed room, which is practically impossible to make, let alone find in an old warehouse.

At his first whisper, the man had looked at him, face hard to read for the cowl except for the slight surprise in his eyes. He didn't say anything, just silently slipped around the corner and disappeared.

Xander could only hang on the wall. He did hear sounds of fighting for a good five minutes, and some maniacal laughter now and then, with a little gunfire thrown in for good measure. Then, all was quiet.

The black caped man came back and began to untie him. "Are you hurt?" The other shook his head shortly. Xander rubbed his wrists to restore some feeling to them as he studied the caped crusader in front of him. This had to be the 'Batman' that Gotham was known for. A man he didn't know had come to save his life. Didn't that make him feel all special? "Thanks."

"Hurt?" The voice was bass and gruff. Xander gave a quick head shake of his own in response.

"Yeah, I'm fine. They didn't do anything except tie me up and use me as bait. Ummm..." The other man was on his way out as soon as he received a negative to injury, but paused at Xander's hesitant questioning tone, looking back at him with a raised eyebrow expectantly. "…do you know where I can get a taxi? See, it's my first day in this city and I was on my way to meet a friend of my mom's when they took me."

"Come."

So Xander followed him. To his very very very very nice black tank of a car. "Oh my god…that is so cool! Where'd you get it?"

When Batman didn't say anything Xander sighed and obediently shut up. Then he got an answer. Well it was more an order. "Get in. Don't touch anything." He was about to ask how he opened the door when part of the roof swung silently upwards in invitation.

"Sure thing. I'm supposed to go to Bruce Wayne's house."

No answer, but when they were both situated (do all tanks not have seatbelts?) and the roof/door closed, the car/tank immediately moved down the road in a purposeful way. Xander didn't know how else the man could drive that fast without knowing where they were going. Though he supposed that Bruce Wayne was well-known enough that anyone would know where his house would be. Especially a vigilante. Always want to know where the fences you can hide behind can be found. Xander should know, he'd hid behind enough himself.

They drove really fast; enough that Xander began looking for the 'Oh, Jesus!' bar to hold onto, but couldn't find any. So he sat very tense, clutching the edge of his seat until he was sure his knuckles were stark white, desperately praying that the ride would end soon. Really soon. 'Please, god…now would be good. Anytime…'

* * *

Xander could have kissed the ground when they finally stopped except that they were still on pavement. He climbed out of the tank looking at the man that had saved his life before giving a weak grin. "No offense, but if we ever meet again…let me take a cab."

The bat man gave a bark of laughter and then stopped, looking surprised again. "Wayne Manor. You'll be safe here."

Xander spun around quickly, his jaw dropping at the sight of the extremely large and expensive estate. "Holy Twinkies! My _mom_ knows a guy this loaded?" he squeaked. "Mom didn't say he had a mansion…" He looked back, but the car and owner had gone while he had been gawking. Amazing that a tank of a car could move so quietly when it wanted to. Strike that…scary. Yup, a tank-car that could sneak up on you was _really_ scary. Especially when the tank-car had a vigilante inside it. Note to self: Don't piss off Batman.

"Okay. Guess it's time to face the music."

He sighed and pushed the little button on the speaker grill to the left of the huge gate that hopefully would let him talk to the people who owned this very snazzy house. Since it had been several hours on the plane, then on a wall, Xander was getting hungry. He hoped he could find the kitchen in a house that size.

* * *

_Please tell me what you think. Constructive critism please, no flames. How does this version compare to "Xander Goes to Gotham"? Better? Worse?_


	2. Settling In

**The One Who Sees Gotham**

Chapter 2: Settling In

Almadynis

**AN:** I am currently looking for a beta who knows the Batman canon 'verse. If you are interested, please PM me. Thank you.

"blah"-talking  
'blah'-thinking

* * *

The manor, or mansion, just got bigger and more intimidating the closer Xander walked. It probably didn't help that it was already dark. Moonlight alone makes almost everything appear foreboding. Of course, two plus years of fighting vampires and demons in the dead of night didn't help his paranoia any.

However, it isn't paranoia if they actually _are_ out to get you, and it had been proven that he was a demon magnet. Here was hoping that Gotham had a higher human-baddie population than demon-baddie. Xan didn't think he attracted the human variety. Hopefully. Maybe. 'Ah, hell. With my luck I should start carrying a gun. At least humans _stop_ when shot.'

By this time, Xander had reached the matching huge door that began to swing silently inward seemingly of its own accord. Just before he made to run back the way he had come, Xander saw an old man holding the handle of the door. He was well-dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, hair graying with age and dark brown eyes. His face showed no emotion as he spoke. "Young master Alexander I presume. Your plane landed some time ago, I hope there were no problems." His voice was calm, even, and very British.

Xander immediately thought of Giles and colored his response accordingly. "It's just Xander. Sorry I'm late; there was trouble at the airport. Some idiot thought I was pretty enough to attract a black guy. I mean a guy dressed in black, not a black-skinned guy. Not that there is anything wrong with black-skinned guys! Okay, shutting up now." Xan blushed hotly as he was shown upstairs and down multiple halls and huge windows.

Intellectually, Xander had known that Bruce Wayne was one of the world's richest men, but it never really clicked what that meant. His example of the wealthy was Cordelia Chase, and even she lived in a house. A big, expensive, three-story house, but a house nonetheless. He only knew about the mansion Angel lived in, which was old and practically condemned. Wayne Manor was nothing like he had imagined.

Just the corridor of Wayne Manor was extravagant. Wooden floors covered in long, neutral carpet runners would have been enough. However, the hall was also lined occasionally with decorative vases, a suit of 15th century German armor, professionally painted landscapes, and other beautiful pieces of art, culture and history. Xander swore he saw a genuine samurai Bakumatsu-era sakabato on a chest high recession.

Gawking at all the pretties, the teen almost missed the amusement in the other's eyes. Almost. Spending so much time with another Brit let him see hidden emotions. It was how he knew when Giles had truly had enough of his antics or was just saying what was proper or expected. "So, uhh…what's your name? You're not ." Xander was pretty sure that the rich guy was American.

"I am Master Bruce's butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Mr. Wayne is currently unavailable and would like me to send his apologies on not being able to meet you when you arrived. He will endeavor to rectify this in the morning." The pair reached another door seemingly picked at random. Xander grinned at the relic directly across the hall from his door: a unique metallic red axe with a sharp point on the handle made of what looked like maple. A weapon good for beheading and dusting.

"This will be your room, young sir, for as long as you are staying with Master Bruce. The phone on the desk rings me directly. Please let me know if you need anything. You will find appropriate attire in the closet and if you would like to freshen up the door to the left of the closet connects to your bathroom." As he ran through the explanation, the extremely efficient butler was going around the room, turning on the lamp by the bed, turning down the covers, retrieving a pair of blue draw-string pajama bottoms from presumably the closet, and then gesturing to the door to the left as he mentioned the bathroom.

Once again, Xander was gawking. The room was easily as big as the Sunnydale High School Library with what looked like solid oak furniture large enough to match. The bed was a king size four poster decorated in navy blue covers and hangings. That was another thing; the room was done in varieties of blue down to the large area rug. Curtains, window seat cover, sheets, everything fabric that could be construed as 'decorative' was in a shade of blue. Enough variation for it not to seem annoying, but enough congruency to be cohesive.

There was only one problem. The tall windows with their cobalt blue window seats and curtains were all facing north.

After fighting vampires, demons and other spooky things that go bump in the night, Xander had gotten really appreciative of his east-facing bedroom. He had even come to use the sun as an alarm clock. So the chances of him being able to sleep in this admittedly luxurious room was slim to none.

Alfred, ever the observant butler asked gently, "Is there a problem, young master?"

He looked helplessly at Alfred, not knowing what to say. 'On one hand, how can I reject this beautiful room when I'm a guest? It's rude and will send all the wrong signals. Mr. Wayne is bound to hear about it and then what will happen? I will get shipped back to Sunnyhell for being too much trouble and taking advantage and being a money-seeking ingrate. I can't go back! Without Buffy's protection I won't survive to graduate!'

Xander sighed and shook his head. "No Mr. Pennyworth. Thank you for all your help and staying up so late to show me around."

Obviously Alfred didn't believe him. No one was that stupid. However, all the butler said was, "Very good young sir. Sleep well." Then he walked out of the main door, closing it softly behind him.

Xan listened to the receding footsteps until he couldn't anymore, then released his pent-up breath. "Just great. How the hell am I supposed to sleep in here? Even if you don't count the windows, the bed is huge and has…" he leaned over to run the back of his hand against the turned down covers "…Egyptian cotton sheets."

Frustrated and tired led to all sorts of odd things in people. Xander had a tendency to talk to himself. It helped him work out problems when Willow wasn't around. Xander was a very smart individual, but hid it well for several reasons. The first was that after years of being around Willow he knew that his friend liked being the smart one, so played up his ignorance to make her feel better. Jesse needed someone to relate to easily was the second reason. When Jesse died literally in his arms and by his hand, Xander kept up his façade for Willow, and being underestimated by others helped him in a fight.

Cordelia had seen through him not long after they began dating. She took it upon herself to teach him about the richer side of life: manners, designer versus mass-produced, etiquette, penmanship, etc. She said at the time that she wanted to contribute to his knowledge somehow, but he suspected Cordy had been grooming him to be husband-material suited to her lifestyle. One of the first things she taught him was thread count.

Xander ran a hand through his hair at the memories before focusing back on the problem. "Damnit. Think Xan. How can you sleep in a north-facing room? Think think think think…" he paced a little then his eyes lit up in an idea.

Beginning by stripping the comforter off the bed, he pulled on two ends until the other side came free. Half-dragging his prize to the window, Xan kicked off his shoes (placing them by the designated closet door), pulled off his shirt and jeans but leaving on his Snoopy boxers. He then wrapped the comforter around his body, gathered the extra material in front and sat on the window seat. It was just wide enough to stretch his legs easily. Pooling one corner into a make-shift pillow against the windowpane and the rest of the extra material over his legs and feet, Xander grinned to himself in triumph. "East light from a north window." He laughed and closed his eyes, 'and dawn will wake me in time to straighten the bed back up. No one will know and I get to stay. Not too back after being kidnapped by a clown.' Almost immediately on the heels of that thought, he was asleep.

* * *

Bruce Wayne listened to his new guest talk to himself stoically. The implications were interesting. They could be construed several different ways.

It was entirely possible that Alexander had learned what a moneybags Bruce Wayne had inherited and was here to collect, but the boy didn't seem to be interested in the money. At least not yet. If the boy was interested, he probably would have asked for a different room. But perhaps he wouldn't start asking for things until he was more secure in his position. Bruce would start worrying about gold-digging when the boy asked to borrow the jet. What he needed to worry about was other possibility.

Alexander had been very cool and collected when hanging on the wall. Disturbingly so. And he had seem Batman coming through the window. Years of training with Ra's al Ghul then years of practice traversing Gotham itself and still Bruce couldn't name a soul who had seen him when he hadn't wanted to be seen. The boy walked with the air of someone used to brawl fighting with no formal training. He was quiet and took notice of everything that could be potentially used as a weapon. It was very odd behavior for a junior, even if he was fifteen years old.

According to Jessica, the boy was fleeing because he feared for his safety. Alexander was used to fighting, and was intelligent enough to skip grades and attend Advanced Placement classes. He looked for exits and weapons. He thought of unique solutions to odd problems. He had never needed to hide his emotions.

Alexander was a mystery, a contradiction. Bruce would need to study and get to know the boy personally since most of the records from Sunnydale were incomplete or nonexistent.

He would have to socialize as Bruce.

Damn.

Bruce sighed and looked at the cameras that were situated overlooking Xander's room and raised an eyebrow. "Alfred? Come look at this. I want to know what you think."

His friend and only confidant came to his side and peered at the camera. "Master Bruce, you are observing a home-sick child trying to get comfort in the only thing that remains steady in his new surroundings. It does happen occasionally, Sir."

Bruce rolled his eyes at his friend/father, but he did understand the boy's predicament. The only thing that remained true to him were the stars. The fact that the bed was probably much more luxurious than he was used to probably didn't help. Or the Egyptian cotton sheets.

Bruce sighed and added another possibility to his list. Alexander could be exactly what he appeared. A fifteen year old boy that was running from an abusive home.

* * *

"Master Alexander? It's time to get up." A man's voice invaded his hesitant sleep, but he waved it away.

"…"

"School is at 8am, young master." Xander's eyes shot open at the word 'school' and he bolted upright, looking around. He found Alfred about a step to the left of his make-shift bed, standing there with an unreadable expression.

Xander's voice was small, "School?" He tried very hard not to look guilty at the destroyed bed.

Alfred's face remained unreadable as he opened the window curtains above Xander's head before heading for the open door. "I've set out your clothes. The bathroom is through that door. If there is anything you need, just phone. Breakfast will be in a half hour."

Xander nodded absently, mouth agape. He had never been this surprised about anything. His eyes had followed to where Alfred gestured the pile of clean, pressed, and neatly stacked _new _clothes that were in his size. To the closed door that held the bathroom, to the phone on a desk that he would have sworn wasn't there yesterday. Of course, he had been really tired last night, but the fact that he had missed furniture and been sleeping solidly enough to miss the entrance of someone into his sleeping place was extremely disturbing. In Sunnydale, that could get him killed. Non-vampire demons didn't have to be invited into a home.

"You will be attending a prestigious school, and I know you will do your family proud." With those auspicious words, Alfred left the room.

Xander's eyes were as wide as pancakes, and he could smell breakfast-type smells coming from somewhere that was making his stomach growl. He also noticed that it was still dark outside! No wonder he had been asleep…the sun would have woken him if it had been out! Xander whimpered, "Not school…couldn't he come up with a more conventional way to torture me? Has he seen my grades?" But he obediently got up, and made a dash for the bathroom across the cold hardwood floor, snatching the pile of clothes on the way. Even with the area rug for insulation it was chilly.

The bathroom was just as luxurious as the bedroom, but with no time to appreciate it, Xander hurried through washing with the things provided. He was all ready in ten minutes, not bothering to brush his hair or teeth. He would enjoy the stuff later, when he had time. Hunger drove him better than any taskmaster. He was through the door and going back down the hall in less than fifteen minutes.

* * *

A phone rang through the house and Alfred dutifully picked it up on the second ring. "Is there a problem young master?"

*Umm…Alfred?* Xander's voice came hesitantly over the line. *I can't find the kitchen.*

Alfred frowned, perplexed, "What do you require from the kitchen?"

*Breakfast?* Xander's reply was equally confused and Alfred blinked.

"I will come to escort you shortly." Alfred hung up and looked at his employer.

"Why did he want the kitchen?" Bruce asked without looking up from his paper and food.

"The young master thought breakfast would be served in the kitchen."

Bruce looked up at that, one eyebrow raised. Then he shrugged, "He'll learn."

Xander sat on a bench in who knew which wing of this huge house, and tried not to feel even more uncomfortable. His supposed new clothes, was actually a school uniform. He wore a light blue polo-shirt with a pocket logo for Gotham Private Academy, and a pair of khaki pants with black sneakers.

Alfred came around the corner and Xander shot up from his seat and raced over, his stomach making an unpleasant noise that echoed in the silent hall. "Food?"

The butler only allowed himself to smile later when the young master had gone from school, but for now he simply directed Xander to the waiting meal. "And you need to make maps to this place!" Alfred looked at his new charge with a raised eyebrow, his voice even as he replied, "Very good, young master."

"Alfred?"

"Yes, young master Alexander?"

"Please, it's Xander. And I was wondering if you know a guy called Rupert Giles. He's my high school librarian and he was British too." Xander hoped that the hopeful look in his eyes didn't make it to his face.

"Sadly, young master, I am not acquainted with all of my compatriots who reside in this country."

Xander gave the butler a sharp look, then a grin split his face and he laughed for the first time in two weeks. "Well, you are certainly funnier than Giles. All he ever does is say 'oh, dear' or occasionally 'dear lord' and clean his glasses. He does like say 'Xander if you would stop doing that, please. You are an adult, do act like it.' a lot…" Xander trailed off, sad when he thought about how much he missed his father.

"You must care for him a great deal." Xander grinned, though the comment itself didn't have much emotion, he was so lost in thought he didn't really notice.

"Oh Giles is great. He taught me how to sort the card catalog, and Latin, and was starting to teach me how to fight when I had to leave…Alfred?" Something had been bugging Xan for awhile. He had left in a mild hurry. He didn't go to the library and un-enrolled from Sunnydale High a week before. He hadn't given any notice to Giles at all. The girls wouldn't care, but Giles would. The man had been his father since sophomore year. Xander felt extremely guilty for not even saying goodbye.

"Yes, young sir?" This time the tone was gentle.

"Do you think Mr. Wayne would mind too much if I called Giles? I know it's really long distance, but I never got the chance to say good-bye and he was…well, do you think he'd mind?" Xander couldn't finish the sentence, already half-horrified by what he had said unconsciously. Having a Brit for a butler would be a concern. He was comforted by Brits, and he would have to watch what he said.

"I am sure it is no problem, but you should ask him."

Four turns and two halls later, they reached where the food lived and Xander grinned goofily, and hungrily, at the laid out buffet. There was bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, fruit, coffee that was only in Bruce's reach, milk and juice at his place, and a small bowl of some hot cereal. His mouth watered just looking. He sat down and dug in. His manners needed to be attended to, but Bruce and Alfred just made a mental note of them. They didn't say anything.

The long table separated Bruce and Xander by a good ten feet. When Xander finally slowed down and looked up, his mind was racing about everything and he opened his mouth to ask, then closed it. Open. Closed.

"Just ask, Alexander." Bruce's voice floated to him and he cocked his head to one side, the part of Xan's mind that fought and lived filing away the information for later.

Xander gulped and turned to the man that was helping him escape a painful death at the hands of a homicidal slayer, knowing he looked guilty as all sin. "Ummm…well, that is…uhhh…"

Alfred, the gentleman's gentleman, spoke up when he saw just how tongue-tied the young master was. "Young Alexander is trying to request he be allowed to call his mentor in California."

Bruce continued to look at Xander and shrugged, "Can't see why not. Not like I can't afford the bill."

Xander let out the breath he'd been holding, "Thanks, Mr. Wayne. See, I never got to say good-bye to Giles 'cause of everything that happened and I just want to be able to do that. Thank you sir."

"No problem, and call me Bruce. If we are going to live under the same roof, we might as well lose the formalities." Xan's new custody-holder gestured for him to take a seat.

Xander grimaced, "Tell that to Alfred. He won't call me anything but young master Alexander. Not even young master Xander, which is only slightly better I admit, but Alexander." Xander shivered.

Bruce laughed, "Well, Alfred is stuck in his ways. He still calls me Master Bruce."

At that comment, Alfred gave his surrogate-son and look, "As it should be Master Bruce. Anything else wouldn't be proper." He gave Xander a subtle wink that made him snort in his drink in an attempt to hide his grin.

* * *

Please tell me what you think, especially comparing this versus XGtG.  
Also, cookies to whoever can catch the non-Batman/Buffy reference above and name it.  
Hint: From a manga-turned-anime. Name the manga, and the character associated with it.


	3. Calling Giles

**The One Who Sees Gotham**

Chapter 3: Calling Giles

Almadynis

**AN:** This story is set after "The Dark Knight" with enough time passing so that Wayne Manor is rebuilt. I will be using several villains that have supposedly died, but I will explain their resurrection later.

"blah" talking  
*blah* phonespeak

* * *

Saying that the phone call to Giles had not gone well would be an understatement. Xander hadn't even gotten to talk to the Brit, instead Willow had picked up.

*Sunnydale High Library.*

"Hey Wills, ummm…is Giles there?" Xander was hesitant in asking anything from his former best friend. After the Incident, she hadn't spoken to him at all. Not even a call to check if he had come home safely.

*Xander! Giles doesn't want to talk to you, you…you…liar! Don't call back!*Her angry exclamation, so unlike her normally gentle and caring personality, ended with a crash on her end as she slammed the phone into its cradle.

He didn't even get a chance to ask if they were alright or needed help. Taking a deep breath, he dialed Giles' home number and got the answering machine. "Giles, it's Xander. I just wanted to you know that if you guys need help…or anything…just call me. I'm at 55-92963. I…" he sighed and hung up. There wasn't anything else he could say or do. He just hoped that not every bridge had been burned.

* * *

Buffy glared at the answering machine on the desk behind her as she lay on her Watcher's couch. How dare Xander call _her_ Watcher and imply they would ever need his help! With no twinge of guilt, Buffy reached over and deleted the message.

Rupert Giles walked into his living room, "Who was that?" He held several old tomes, hoping to find a reference to the week's latest demonic attack.

"Telemarketer."

Giles nodded and set his books on the table. "Well then, if you could look through the Codex, I'll start with Avara's Annotated." Buffy grimaced but dutifully grabbed the offered text.

* * *

_I know it's short, but I wanted to get this out before starting the next chapter. Please review._


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